


Firefighter, Firestriker

by Lionescence



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Firefighter Kogane, Gen, Post-S6 feelings, Set in S2E1, Shiro is briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionescence/pseuds/Lionescence
Summary: Stranded in the wilderness of nowhere, Keith builds a fire to keep him, and the injured Shiro warm.He remembers his father, and how fire connected them in more ways than he realized.





	Firefighter, Firestriker

Somehow, the rocky landscape of the planet they’d crashed on to yielded a small copse of dead wood. Maybe this planet had once been full of life, and then Zarkon and his quintessence-draining greed came along and ended all of that life.

Keith tried not to think about any of that. Of Zarkon, and how he’d been so foolish as to take him on himself. Of the quintessence and what it did to his skin. Right now, his thoughts were firmly on Shiro, and keeping him warm and safe and alive.

He dared to leave Shiro out there, unprotected, resting against a small outcropping of rock, to run into Red and grab his utility belt. Returning to Shiro’s side, he reached into one of the pouches and pulled out his trusty multi-tool, weathered and battered from age but still as serviceable as anything of Altean make. He fiddled with it, knowing by touch how to get the tool he needed, sparing only the briefest glance at the faded _C.KOGANE_ etched into the leather.

Only with this tool would Keith ever pause, run a finger reverently along the length of the carbon-steel firestriker as he said a small, private prayer, before striking it with the piece of flint-like rock he’d found. Sparks burst forth, and the firewood immediately caught, climbing high in a matter of minutes, bathing their small encampment in light and warmth.

Unbidden, a bitter memory came back to him.

_Feral child._

Keith bit the inside of his cheek, scowling. What did any of them know, anyway? Keith Kogane, best pilot of his generation, one of the hardest workers in the Garrison, who popped out of survival training hours before the rest of his group because… well, everyone assumed he’d cheated. His GPS tracker had of course confirmed otherwise, but again, what did anyone know? Whose business was it that at the tender age of four Keith was already exploring the vast emptiness of the desert wilds and scaling rocky faces with his father? That as soon as his father was sure he would retain such knowledge, he had a brief childhood steeped in survival and adventure, climbing trees, catching desert hares for dinner, navigating by the stars, finding paths…

Starting fires.

 

 

_“Daddy?”_

_“Yessum?”_

_Keith watched intently as his father showed him how to hold the firestriker, how to set the flint against it, made him list out the things he could use in place of flint, things that would serve as fuel for the fire._

_“You’re a firefighter.”_

_“That I am.”_

_“So you put out fires.”_

_“That would be a big part of my job, yes.”_

_The boy scowled, wrinkling his nose. “So, why are you teaching me to make a fire? Aren’t fires dangerous?”_

_His father let out a low chuckle, the laughter causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in a way that Keith loved so much. With a hum, he struck the flint and sparks flew, and in no time at all a fire glowed merrily for them, under their canopy of stars. Moving away from the shallow pit he’d dug for their fire, he motioned for his son to come closer, and Keith did, settling against his father’s solid presence._

_“Fire is only dangerous when you don’t respect it, son. And I’m teachin’ you to respect it. When you make a fire, you’re responsible for it. You keep an eye on it, you feed it, you put it to bed when you’re done. You never underestimate it, you don’t ever think you’re better than it, even if you’re the one who made it.”_

_Keith hummed thoughtfully, reaching for his father’s hand so he could play with his fingers. His father was so big, so strong, that it took Keith’s entire fist to grasp his pointer finger. “But don’t you always say, you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned?”_

_“That is very true, my little spark. But we ain’t playing here, are we?” Keith shook his head. “Okay then. So what are we doing?”_

_“We’re camping. And it’s dark. And the fire keeps us warm, and keeps the animals and bugs away. So… it keeps us safe?”_

_“S’right. And because we had sandwiches with us, we don’t need to cook over the fire. But we have done before, right?”_

_“Uh-huh! And we’ve toasted marshmallows!”_

_His father laughed, and ruffled his son’s mop of hair. “See? So, we make the fire to help us out, don’t we? We’re not out to hurt anyone, or make a mess, or just playing a damn fool.”_

_“_ Daddy. _”_

 _“Ah, m’sorry, son. A_ darn _fool.”_

_The pair were quiet, for a while, even though Keith was still bursting with questions. His father seemed to pick up on this, because he pulled his son into his lap, holding him close. “Y’see, I put out fires, but I also spend a lot of time teachin’ about fire safety, and what to do if there is a fire. Knowledge will almost always save your life, and probably lots of other lives, too. You ought to pay attention to your surroundings, always know what’s what, so you know how to act when you need to.”_

_“But isn’t it scary? Don’t you get scared?”_

_“’Course I do, kiddo. All the time. But I know what I know about fires, about buildings, about my team. I know what I’m capable of, and I trust my good instincts to know what to do if someone needs help, or if I get into a tight spot. Granted, sometimes what I end up doing ain’t regulation, but —”_

_“Like the time you were caught in a tree with that lady because you had to jump out the wrong window?”_

_“Yep. Just like that time, you little rascal.” He ran quick fingers into Keith’s baby-soft belly, tickling him until he screeched and wriggled and begged him to stop. He picked his son up, blowing a messy raspberry into his belly before settling him back down again, cuddling him again in his arms and kissing his hair._

_“Remember, son. No matter what happens, it ain’t ever the fire’s fault. Fire is a gift, and if you disrespect it, if you think you’re better than it, even for a second, it’ll bite you. Always, always respect it, and show no arrogance. Fire don’t care who you are or where you’re from, but if you take good care of it, it will serve you forever.”_

 

 

Looking up at the Red Lion, the Guardian Spirit of Fire, Keith remembered that she hadn’t wanted him, hadn’t bowed to his demands — indeed, the demands of any of the Galra that had held her captive — until he moved to protect her, to keep her safe. And since then she had come for him, protected him in turn, and kept him safe, with the same fiery ferocity he possessed.

 _Little Spark_ , came a voice in his head, a purring rumble. _I like that_.

Keith nodded to no one, and put his father’s tool away. He moved close to Shiro, kept his eyes on the fire, and waited.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know that in WYR, and other shorts associated with it, I have Keith's father as Tay Kogane, for plot reasons. 
> 
> In all other circumstances, though, I'm going with the initial C. Kogane. Cal is my favourite headcanon name for him. I just like the idea of Cal, Krolia, and Keith. 
> 
> Also, isn't it amazing that Keith's dad was a firefighter? An ordinary hero, whose son grew to be so much more than he could have dreamed.


End file.
